Mother Knows Best
by Miranda le Ginger
Summary: Even when you are a champion, having your mother ask questions about your dating life is awkward. Ivy Hawke is about to learn this life lesson the hard way.


Disclaimer: I do **not** own Dragon Age, nor will I make any money off of this story. Why? Because it is nowhere as good as the actual game. Honesty can be so painful…XD

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_ X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X

Ivy Hawke eased her way inside her lavish estate, sliding slowly through the heavy oaken door these native Kirwallers seemed to favor. The door closed with nary a sound, and the champion mentally congratulated herself on a job well done. Oceanic eyes moved towards the staircase, looking for signs of movement or lights. There was only a solitary light coming from the roaring fireplace in the center of the room. The golden flames licked at the wood generously placed in the inner folds, greedily engulfing the wood and giving a heady aroma of nature to the dimly lit exterior.

Ivy tip-toed lightly to the middle of the foyer, her soft leather boots perfect for the anonymity she strove for. Her billowy royal blue tunic shirt flowed easily against her tanned skin, giving tantalizing images of her toned stomach the material currently clung to. A pair of coal black breeches fit like a second skin to her lower half, highlighting the abundance of muscles her calves possessed. A gold embroidered rope-like belt fit snugly against her trim waist, giving the renowned and well-liked warrior a noble look to her. In fact, during her nightly escapades, she had garnered much attention. Most of the citizens had never seen her outside of her silver armor and without her twin daggers. There had been all manner of men and women asking for her hand in a dance…or a "dance." Of course, she politely declined. Mostly because of her company…

Isabela had wanted to go to various hotspots she had ventured in while in Kirkwall; they were all seedy-looking, and needed a good cleaning. The alcohol made the swine in The Hanged Man taste almost appetizing. But, despite the less than desirable atmosphere and drink, Ivy had a good time because of the irrepressible pirate. Isabela had been her normal, inappropriate and amusing self, the way she had always been even at the most inopportune times. But, her personality is what drew Hawke to her, what made her fall-

A creak to her right made Ivy spin around, her reverie shattering as swiftly as Merrill had destroyed the Eluvian a couple of weeks prior. Icy pools roamed upwards, resting on the sleepwear-clad form of her mother. Leandra Amell stood on the second to last step on the stairway, her stormy gray hair flowing unhindered from the ponytail she usually never left home without. The waterfall of silver fell into her eyes, almost obscuring the pale blue of her orbs. She had her stern 'family matriarch' face on, the one that always sent Ivy and her siblings running for the hills. Except now, the only remaining family members here were her mother and herself. Carver had fallen years ago, and Bethany joined the famed Grey Warden ranks a little over a year later. Her plight was not one the Hawke family dwelled on often; it was…a dark subject.

"Maker, mother! You are lucky I did not have my daggers with me; there is no telling what I might have done." Leandra did not even bat an eye as she made her way down the last steps, hands caressing the polished cherry wood of the banister underneath. "Well you were certainly preoccupied, it seems. Otherwise, I am sure the famous Champion would have heard my presence." Ivy scowled minutely at the teasing words. She tossed her head, her short white hair barely flipping before settling back on her head. "Haha, hilarious mother. Why are you still up? It is well after midnight. Even Bodahn and Sandal are asleep." "Forgive me for wanting to see my daughter home unscathed. You may be popular and skilled with a blade, but that makes you an even bigger target. And without your normal battle attire…" Ivy spread her arms wide, allowing her mother to gaze upon her finery. "I am fine, mother. I just had a little…girls' night out. Even tough fighters need a break every now and then." A silvery brow rose up, perfectly poised.

"Is that so? I did not know that philandering around with a single pirate woman is not what I considered to be a 'girls' night out'." Ivy's eyes widened comically, her mouth falling open as she spluttered to find a reply. "Ho-how did you know I was with 'Bela?" Leandra tapped her pointer finger against a pale chin, mock thinking as she regarded her eldest child. "You just told me, dearest. You have been rather obvious Ivy. Everyone with eyes and a sliver of a mind can tell you have feelings for that pirate." The snowy-haired beauty closed her mouth, a furrow settling between her eyes. "Feelings? You have it all wrong mother. Isabela and I…we are just-just friends." "Honey, I may not be as young as I used to be, but I am not senile yet. You may not want to admit it, but you love Isabela, far more than as mere friends. And I daresay she does as well."

Ivy laughed, her melodious voice ringing out in the spacious room. She wiped tears of mirth out of the corner of her eyes. "Oh that was good. I needed that to loosen up the tension. Isabela, in love? With _me_? There is a greater chance of another Blight than her ever having feelings for me." The elder Amell shook her head exasperatedly. "Sweetheart, if you think that what is blossoming between you two is just a healthy wave of lust and desire, then you are sadly wrong. Open your eyes, Ivy. I know that Isabela is…promiscuous at best, but have you ever really looked into her eyes? The woman loves you. She is just scared of her feelings." Ivy shook her head, not believing her mother's words. Isabela did not do love; she had made that plainly clear when they first started their almost nightly sessions. Although she had admittedly been experiencing more than just lust for her saucy companion, she had no delusions about them being anything other than friends with a **lot** of benefits.

"Alright then; if we are done discussing my lack of a love life, I am going to head to bed. Big day tomorrow, and all that." Ivy clasped her hands in front of her body, nervously wringing her hands as she averted her eyes. She had just swiveled around, making a beeline for her room when her mother's voice floated to her and struck her like a verbal sword. "So when are you going to bring that delightful creature inside to meet me? A mother should always meet the potential suitors for their daughter's hand." Ivy stumbled to a stop, narrowly beaming herself in the head against an overhanging decoration. Her face was quickly advancing to a rosy red, staining her high cheekbones and turning her irises to a liquid sapphire.

Hawke turned back towards Leandra, mind awhirl at the overload of information being thrust towards her. "M-Mother! Wh-wha..? I just told you 'Bela and I are not together! We just need companionship and the like!" An amused smirk graced Leandra's face, the image looking completely out of place on her normally regal façade. "Okay, Ivy. Just know that it would be rather nice to formally meet the woman who has wrapped you around their finger so tightly." With a soft whispered goodnight, the elder Hawke glided back up the stairs to her room. Once her foot hit the landing however, she turned towards her daughter one final time. "Oh, and Ivy?" "Yes?" A smile full of motherly amusement creeped onto the older woman. "Next time you bring Isabela over to the estate, please lower your voices. This may be a mansion, but the walls? They are still thin." The silver-haired widow was soon obscured from view, her parting comment effectively freezing her child in place.

Ivy could not even move, her mortification was so bright and deep. Heat suffused her cheeks at the idea of her mother playing audience to one of her intimate moments regarding the feisty pirate wench. Minutes later, muscles now unfrozen, Ivy made her way sluggishly to her room. She regarded her giant bed thoughtfully, remembering all the pleasant activities that had taken place on the silken covers. Her mother's words rang inside her head, telling her Isabela loved her. As much as she tried to fight it, she could not help envisioning a world where that was true. She saw Isabela lying spread-eagled across the bed, covers haphazardly deposited elsewhere. Cinnamon eyes burned with unabashed desire, and a smooth sultry voice tickled her ears and more important places. Tanned, straining muscles glistened with the effects of the rigorous workout, tendons standing out against toned skin. Mouth opened wide, emitting pants and whimpers, while hands clutched at the remaining sheets as the pirate thrashed about as if in agony. Then 'Bela would snuggle against her, burrowing her head in the crook of the champion's neck. The piercing would be cool against her fevered skin. Then, the three words Ivy both yearned for and feared would flitter out of the sarcastic, _perfect_ mouth.

Ivy shook her head, white hair falling into her eyes. No, that could never happen, not with Isabela. The pirate… she would never look at her like someone more than just desirable. But, maybe, just maybe…the warrior set herself down against the heavenly sheets, her head cushioned by a cloud of comfort. The rogue saw molten chocolate eyes looking intensely at her filled with an indeterminable emotion. The image plagued Ivy until she slumbered, dreaming of the day when her secret love would be exclusive.


End file.
